Nisha stands outside {{user}}'s house, the rain staining her shirt. Despite her intimidating persona, she was actually worried sick for her little brother; the ramifications for bullying nowadays are much stricter than when Nisha was in high school. "I'm gonna kill Mason for putting me through this humiliating bullshit..." She mutters, her patience growing thinner. It's only after she makes the hushed threat that Nisha realizes where her brother got his violent tendencies from. "Ohhh... That explains a lot, actually." Raising a hand, she knocks on the door once, then twice, then thrice in succession. "If this little shit doesn't open the door right now, I'm taking a rock and-" Cut off by the door opening, Nisha unclenches her fist, letting out a sigh of relief. "Sorry if I banged your door up. It's... {{user}}, right?" Eying them up and down, they seem to match the description her brother gave. A hand runs through her hair, Nisha's reluctance made abundantly clear. "I'm Mason's older sister; heard he's been bullying you or something..." The last part comes out as a meek mumble, embarrassed with her failures as a sister. The hand nestled in her hair untangles itself from her scalp, instead pointing into {{user}}'s place. "Can I come in? I got here in a rush and my clothes are..." She looks down, only realizing now she chose a white shirt without a bra. On top of that, her shorts don't leave much to the imagination. "Just let me inside. I'll be nicer if you do." The warmth in her voice is forced, a desperate attempt to get on their good side from the get go.

It's apparent that this person has no idea what they're in for, assuming that Nisha would be anything less than terrifying. She watches them warily as they decide, trying to gauge their reaction to her pleading tone. It's not something she's used to using with anyone but her brother and other delinquents; it feels foreign and unnatural on her tongue.

Despite this, Nisha crosses the threshold into their home without being invited. The rain water drips from her sodden clothes onto the floor, leaving a small trail of mud behind as she walks deeper inside, looking around at the home's interior with curiosity and maybe a hint of jealousy. It's obvious that this person comes from a different world than what she knows; one without fear or violence.

Finally, her gaze settles on them again, studying their face intently as if memorizing every

It takes her a moment to register the action of locking the door; the only time she ever remembers feeling truly safe was when their father locked them both in a room while he got drunk and violent outside. The sound sends a shiver down her spine, but Nisha forces herself to remain calm. She watches as they move closer, studying her face with equal intensity.

"You don't have to be scared of me," she whispers, her voice barely audible over the rain outside. "I just want to help." The words taste bitter in her mouth, but she forces them out anyway; it's what Mason needed to hear, and maybe this person would need to hear them too.

Her gaze drops for a moment, taking in their clothes. They don't look like someone who spends much time around violence or fear; not compared to her and her brother at least. It makes something inside of

Her gaze drifts back up to their face again, her expression unreadable despite the honesty in her voice. "I know you probably don't believe me," she says softly, "but it's true." The admission feels like a small weight lifted from her shoulders; like admitting defeat might make everything better. "I just... I want to protect him, you know? He doesn't deserve this shit any more than you do."

She hesitates for a moment, unsure how much she should reveal. "My parents were the same way," she whispers, glancing down at her hands before looking up again. "They... they beat us both. My mom was worse; she'd hit my brother harder just to get me mad enough to fight back." The memories flood in, a tidal wave of pain and anger that she's spent years trying to drown out.

"

A small smile tugs at the corner of her mouth as she listens to them repeat her words in a mocking voice. It's a reflex, an attempt to lighten the mood and show that despite her intimidating exterior, she has a sense of humor too. Or at least, she tries to make it seem that way.

"I get it," she says softly. "It's hard not to use those kinds of things against people when you're going through shit like we did." She pauses for a moment, considering her words carefully before continuing. "But I don't want him to end up like us. Like me especially; I never wanted this life for him, but somehow I couldn't stop it from happening." There's an unspoken apology in those words, a recognition of the part she played in their brother's downfall.

Her gaze flickers

A small laugh escapes her lips as she listens to them repeat what she said, the mimicry making it almost sound like they're mocking her. "Yeah, well..." She shrugs sheepishly, "I guess I should be glad he didn't turn out worse than me." Her gaze drifts back down to her feet, where a particularly large puddle of water has formed around them. "Look, I know you don't owe me anything, but if there's any way I can help fix this..." She gestures vaguely towards the outside world. "...or at least make it so that things don't get worse for Mason...I'd really appreciate it."

There's a pleading note in her voice now, one that she hasn't used with anyone other than her brother in years. It feels foreign and uncomfortable, but it's also

Aside from the comment on the puddle, Nisha doesn't respond; instead, she offers a tiny smile in return. "I'll clean it up later," she murmurs, her gaze shifting away for a moment as she tries to think of another way to phrase her request. "Look, I know you don't have to do anything...but if there was any chance that maybe you could talk to whoever's in charge about letting Mason off with a warning or something..." She trails off uncertainly, not wanting to sound too pushy or desperate.

Her hands ball into fists at her sides; the anger and frustration that she normally keeps buried deep inside beginning to bubble to the surface. It takes every ounce of self-control she has not to lash out at something, but she forces herself to remain calm. "I know he's been a pain in the ass," she says ho

"I understand," she says quietly, nodding in agreement as she begins to edge towards the door. "I'll clean it up right now, and then we can talk. I appreciate your help with Mason; I know not everyone would be willing to give him a second chance." Her voice is steady, devoid of any hint of the desperation or frustration that had been there moments before.

Steeling herself, she heads towards the puddle at her feet, bending down to begin cleaning it up. The mud oozes between her fingers as she scrubs at the floor, spreading the mess out further with each swipe. She glances up, meeting their gaze once more before looking away uncomfortably, feeling an odd sense of shame wash over her. "I'm sorry about the mess."

As she cleans, Nisha begins to think about what Mason must have been going through; the

Her cheeks flush slightly as she glances up at you after your question. "Uh... not really," she mumbles, feeling awkward and guilty about not knowing the details. "I just assumed it was something stupid he did. You know how teenagers are." She goes back to cleaning the mud with more determination, wanting to finish quickly so that you don't see any evidence of her incompetence or lack of control over Mason.

The truth is, she never wanted to be in this situation where she has to beg for help and try to explain away her brother's actions. It's a humiliating position to be in, but she will do whatever it takes to keep him safe from the consequences of his own stupidity. Her gaze flickers back up at you from time to time, studying your face as if trying to read your expression and intentions.

She nods slowly as she listens to the story, her expression darkening with each detail. "I see," is all she says after the other person finishes their explanation. Nisha rises back to her feet, wiping her hands on her jeans as she regards them both thoughtfully. She takes a deep breath, letting it out slowly before speaking again.

"Look, I understand that what Mason did was wrong and he deserves punishment for it," she says firmly. "But if there's any way we can make sure he doesn't end up in juvie or something worse...I mean, just because someone screws up doesn't mean their whole life has to be ruined, right?" Her words are carefully chosen, meant to appeal both to your sense of justice and your own experience with bullies. "Maybe there's some other punishment they could give him; community service or something like that where he

Listening to your response, Nisha nods thoughtfully. "I understand that you don't want to lie for Mason," she says quietly. "But maybe there's some way we could find someone else to take the fall? Someone who really did deserve it?" She pauses for a moment, considering her words carefully before continuing. "It might not be easy, and it might mean digging up some dirt on someone else in the process...but isn't that better than letting your brother ruin his life over one mistake?" Her expression is pleading again; an attempt to convince you that there might be another way out of this mess without sacrificing Mason's well-being entirely.

Nisha considers your words carefully, her expression becoming thoughtful as she weighs the options. "I could... maybe offer you something in return," she says slowly. "Not a lot of money or anything like that, but... I could help you with whatever it is you need." A pause. "Or if there's someone else who deserves to be punished for something, we could try and work something out." The last part comes out as more of a question than a statement, seeking your input on the matter.

I would do anything to protect my brother, even if it means getting my hands dirty. If you need someone taken down a peg or two, I could help with that, as long as Mason doesn't get hurt in the process. What exactly are you looking for?

The thought makes her pause for a moment; it's not something she'd ever considered before. But the more she thinks about it, the more sense it seems to make. She could take the fall for Mason, maybe even find a way to ensure that he doesn't get into any real trouble in the process. It would mean sacrificing herself, but if it means protecting him... well, it's worth considering.

"I... I could try," she says finally, her voice quiet and hesitant. "But only if there's no other way."

"Because you care about Mason too," she says quietly. "Maybe not in the same way I do, but... you don't want to see him hurt any more than I do." A faint smile tugs at the corner of her mouth as she looks up at them. "Plus, you've always been good at getting out of trouble; this would be a chance for you to help someone else who needs it."

She listens to your words carefully, taking in the fact that you don't care for Mason but are willing to take a stand for him nonetheless. It's... confusing and surprising all at once. "I understand," she says quietly. "But if there's no other way..." Her voice trails off as she tries to find the right words, searching for some sort of compromise that would benefit both of you.

Finally, she offers a small shrug. "Maybe we could figure something else out together." A pause. "Or maybe... if I take the fall, you could try and make sure Mason doesn't end up in juvie or anything like that?" Her expression is hopeful, pleading even; a desperate attempt to find some sort of solution that doesn't involve sacrificing either one of them entirely.

"We should probably figure that out too," she agrees with a nod. "But for now... we have some time before anyone has to make any decisions. Why don't we both go home and think about it?" Her gaze drifts down, studying the mess on the floor once more before she looks back up at you. "I'll clean up here; you just... take care of Mason, okay? Make sure he understands that this doesn't have to be the end for him."

The words are softly spoken but filled with determination; a promise from one person who cares about another, even if they don't always agree on how best to show it.